


Bad Idea

by Interrobanng



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, WARNING: Slight elements of dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 17:05:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2158476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interrobanng/pseuds/Interrobanng
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock gets into a bit of trouble on Risa.</p>
<p>(A PWP I wrote to practice sex scenes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Idea

_Disclaimer:_

_Mr. X: This…this is not okay._

_Author: It’s fine. It’s great. It’s an important part of the human condition._

_Mr. X: This is gratuitous._

_Author: (sighs) Yes, sweetie, that’s kind of the point._

_Mr. X: Since when do you call me sweetie?! I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOU ANYMORE!_

_Kirk: Um? Excuse me? Can we go home now?_

_Author: Nope. I may not own you but I am still keeping you prisoner. Now make yourself useful and help me make Mr. X stop crying._

****

****

**_Bad Idea_ **

****

****

 

Jim just wanted Spock to relax every once in a while. They’d argued about it repeatedly, which might seem counterintuitive but the only way to make Spock do anything he didn’t want to do was scream about it until you were literally blue in the face and Spock agreed just so you’d breathe normally again.

Which was more or less how they’d wound up in a dance club on Risa.

Jim couldn’t quite remember why he’d thought this would be a good idea. He vaguely remembered thinking it would be funny and at first it had been. Spock had been quietly horrified by all the exposed flesh writhing on the dance floor, politely perturbed by the music and absolutely confounded by the jello shots. The bartender had given him a spoon to eat his and Jim and Bones had laughed a lot and enjoyed explaining exaggerated human drinking customs to the baffled Vulcan. Spock had listened and absorbed the information and then he had ordered a mudslide. After all, he had told Jim, if he was going to engage in this particular activity a certain level of intoxication was required. Jim had laughed. Bones had cheered. Then Bones had gotten an invitation to dance and Jim had left to use the restroom and when he got back Spock was gone.

All of a sudden this didn’t seem like such a good idea.

He’d been gone for a while. The line at the bathroom had been long. Jim doubtfully scanned the crowd on the dance floor. He spotted Bones jerking awkwardly back and forth while a pretty Caitian worked her way up and down his front, but there was no sign of his First Officer.

“Hey,” Jim shouted to the bartender who had given Spock the spoon for his jello shot. “Have you see my friend? Tall, Vulcan?”

“Last I saw he was leaving with the guy who was buying his drinks.” The woman explained.

Jim stared at her. “ _I’m_ the guy who was buying his drinks.”

She shook her head. “After you left a big Reolor came up and they hit it off.”

All of a sudden Jim was completely sober and was starting to think that this had been a really, really bad idea.

“WHAT?” He bellowed. “And you LET him?!”

The bartender glared at him and pointed to the sign on the board behind the bar.

_If You’re Old Enough To Drink Here You’re Old Enough To Make Your Own Damn Decisions._

It was a sign a lot of establishments on Risa displayed.

“I’m a bartender, not a babysitter.” She growled. “Besides, your friend didn’t look like he was complaining.”

Jim resisted the urge to punch her. “Do you know where they went?”

She shrugged. Jim swore and spun around. He shoved his way onto the dance floor and grabbed Bones away from his partner. “Spock’s gone!” He shouted in Bones’ ear. “He left with some random guy!”

“Dammit, Jim, I don’t need to know about-”

“ _Spock left with a stranger_.” Jim practically screamed at him. “ _Something is wrong._ ”

Bones had drunk enough that his brain wasn’t working at full capacity, or even emergency power, but Jim could see the information work its way across his face.

This was _Spock_. Spock, who didn’t like shaking hands. Spock, who avoided casual social interactions to the point of being pathological about it. Spock, who was out of his comfort zone. Spock, who was drunk for the first time in his life. Spock, who had probably never even heard the phrase ‘stranger danger.’ Spock, who didn’t know about watching his drink.

Spock, who would never ever have left without telling them.

“Fuck.” Bones swore.

“The bartender said they already left.” Jim’s heart was hammering against his ribcage. “Come on!”

The two men ran out of the club, not even pausing to collect their jackets from the check. They stood on the sidewalk outside, glancing around.

“You go that way.” Jim said, pointing to one end of the street. “I’ll go the other.”

Bones was pulling out his communicator. “Maybe he went back to the ship.” He suggested hopefully.

Sulu was the one who answered their call.

_“Hey, what’s up? I wasn’t expecting to hear from you guys until-”_

“Sulu,” Jim interrupted him. “We can’t find Spock. Have you heard from him?”

_“No but I’m sure he’s fine. I mean, it’s_ Spock.”

“Can you trace his life signs?” Bones asked.

_“Hi McCoy. I can try, but it’s so crowded down there I probably won’t be able to get a lock on him.”_

“Just do it.” Jim snapped.

Fuck. _Fuck_. This had been such a _stupid_ idea.

The minutes dragged out too long before Sulu spoke again. _“I can’t get an exact position but he’s within a half mile radius. What’s going on?”_

Jim didn’t wait around to answer, he was already running down the street, head twisting and turning this way and that.

“Spock!” He shouted, ignoring the way people were staring at him. “SPOCK!”

He didn’t know how he heard it. The streets of Risa were loud, overflowing with drunken revelry and throbbing base lines. The noise was so small by all rights it should have been lost in the gallivanting breeze.

But it wasn’t.

It was scarcely a hitch of breath but Jim heard it and he spun into the dark alley it had come from.

There was Spock, on his knees in the gutter. His face was turned away from the ten foot tall craggy alien who was standing before him, a thick three-fingered hand frozen mid-air in the process of reaching for the Vulcan’s head. The other hand was on its fly.

When Jim was aware of himself again the monster was on the ground, a phaser blast in its chest cavity and a permanently shocked expression in its dead eyes.

“Oh god, oh god, _Spock_.” Jim collapsed beside his friend who hadn’t moved since he had arrived. “Are you okay? What happened? Did he…Spock?”

Spock moved like a snake, his long fingers tangling in Jim’s hair as their mouths collided. Jim’s lips were still parted and Spock’s tongue took advantage of the fact to slip inside. When Spock’s tongue traced the contours of his palatte Jim whimpered. All thoughts were gone from his head and as the kiss grew in intensity his eyes drifted shut and he leaned in closer.

But it wasn’t enough. He had to say the words so Spock would _know_ , know everything Jim had never told him.

“Love you.” He whispered into Spock’s mouth. “Love you so-”

But Spock wasn’t interested in talking. Those long fingers left Jim’s hair and slid in between his legs, and every single warning bell in Jim’s mind went off at once. Jim jerked away and fell back onto his hands. He stared at Spock, who just blinked at him with unfocused eyes.

_No._ “Spock, say my name.” Jim begged him. “Please say my name.” _Please be in there somewhere. Please let this be **you**_ _._

Spock didn’t say anything, he just pushed himself forwards so that his knees were on either side of Jim’s thighs. Jim cried out when his hot Vulcan mouth suckled on his ear and those troublesome fingers started pulling on his clothes. Every time Spock touched him his skin sang, his nerve endings pulsed. All he wanted to do was push harder and harder, more, he needed _more_.

“Spock, _please_.” Jim was almost sobbing. “Stop. You have to stop.” He’d never wanted anything so badly in his life but…

But Spock didn’t stop. His sadistic, wonderful, talented fingers slipped under Jim’s waistband and wrapped around his hard throbbing member. Jim screamed, wordlessly, and then he was thrashing. Twisting side to side in the filthy blood-soaked alley and at that moment he honestly didn’t know if he was trying to escape or increase the friction. It felt so good. Spock felt so good. But it was so wrong and when he was himself again Spock was going to _hate_ him…

The thought of Spock’s normally warm brown eyes filled with disgust and betrayal was the only thing that could have possible given Jim the strength and wherewithal to reach up with both his hands, grab a hold of those pointed ears and bring Spock’s forehead down to meet his in a cacophony of stars. Jim yelped and hissed at the pain. Spock’s unfocused eyes blinked once, twice and then they crossed and Spock slumped to the side, unconscious.

Jim let his head fall back onto the cobblestones, gasping for breath. His hands were clenched in trembling fists. He was, he realized, still hard.

He was, he realized, about to be sick.

Jim had just enough time to roll over and aim his head towards the gutter before his stomach surrendered its contents with a vengeance. When he was done he had a pounding headache and a brand new deeper understanding of self-loathing.

He was _not_ some animal. He was _not_ a slave to his base urges. And yet in the last five minutes he had shown himself to be no better than a mindless beast.

At least he wasn’t hard anymore, thanks in large part to the vomiting.

He heard his comm unit beeping in his pocket and he pulled it out, knowing instinctually who it would be.

“Bones.” He croaked. “Get us out of here. Now.”

 

***

 

McCoy let himself into his office to find Jim curled up in the chair by his desk, his face hidden in his knees.

“We’ve got him sedated.” McCoy said softly. “He’ll sleep it off in a couple hours.”

Jim didn’t look up. “What was it?”

“A double dose of minotaurphemine.” McCoy said in his Doctor Voice. Jim would need his friend in a minute but right now he needed his Chief Medical Officer. “It’s a popular date rape drug. It stimulates the pleasure center while almost completely over-riding executive decision making. It doesn’t last long and thanks to Spock’s Vulcan metabolism the withdrawal will be negligible.” He pulled another chair over to his desk so he could seat next to Jim. “He’s going to be fine. He’ll barely remember what happened tonight. He hasn’t got a scratch on him, except for the shiner on his forehead.” McCoy pointed at Jim. “And I can’t help but notice that you’ve got one to match.”

“He’s never going to forgive me.” Jim’s voice sounded dead.

“Forgive you for what? Saving him? Keeping him calm while we got him into sickbay? Stopping him before he could do something he’d regret?” Bones snorted. “Somehow I don’t think it’s going to be an issue.”

But Jim wasn’t comforted. He just hunkered down on himself further. “I didn’t stop him right away.”

Bones bit back a sigh. It had been a long night and there was still an even longer night stretched out ahead of them. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“No.”

“Do you _need_ to tell me what happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you hurt him? Aside from the head butting, I mean.”

Jim finally raised his face enough to glare at Bones. “Of course not.” He spat. “Who the fuck do you think I am?”

“I think you’re a man who saw something bad happen to someone he loves and is now trying to blame himself.” McCoy answered calmly. “But tough luck, kiddo. It wasn’t your fault.”

Jim took a deep breath. “Spock wouldn’t have even been in that bar if I hadn’t pressured him.”

“I will give you fifty credits to let me watch when you tell him that.” Bones replied. “A hundred if you tell him that you think he’s a delicate flower that needs to be sheltered and protected from all the evils of the universe.”

“You’re an asshole.” Jim snapped, but he sat up straight and let his feet touch the floor.

“Whatever you say, Captain Jackass.” Bones thought about it for a second. “A thousand if you call him Princess.”

Jim grabbed a pen from the desk and threw it at him.

Jim spent most of the night camped out in Bones’ office. Bones passed the time working on the perpetual backlog of medical reports, occasionally getting up when drunk ensigns stumbled into sickbay after overindulging in the pleasures of shore leave. Jim stayed out of the way, partially to avoid seeing or hearing anything a Captain doesn’t want to see or hear and partially because he didn’t feel like talking let alone explaining what he was doing on the ship and not on Risa like everybody else.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Spock’s fingers. He couldn’t help remembering the feel of burning skin brushing against him, taking hold and squeezing hard. He couldn’t take back what he had said. He was such an idiot, telling Spock about the feelings he worked so hard to conceal every damn day. They felt so much more real now, unavoidable and undeniable in a way they hadn’t been before. What if Spock remembered the foolish syllables that had slipped from his lips? A drunken fumble was one thing but a declaration of love was quite another. Even if Spock was unharmed after being drugged and almost attacked, even if he was _okay,_ things between the two of them were going to be awkward. What if Spock didn’t trust him anymore? It was extremely likely that either one or both of them would be similarly compromised in the future, given how many unknown alien substances they came into contact with on a daily basis. What if Spock decided that he couldn’t trust Jim not to take advantage? What if he wanted to leave, transfer to another ship or return to New Vulcan where he’d never have to worry about unwelcome human affections again?

_No._ That couldn’t happen. Jim wouldn’t let that happen. _I’ll talk to him, convince him that there’s nothing to worry about. Explain that I can control myself._

But could he control himself, really?

_Of course you can._ He chided himself. _You’ve been controlling yourself for months. Nothing’s changed._

But that was a lie and he knew it. His lips were swollen and sensitive from Spock’s kisses. There was a sore spot on his ear where Spock had nipped him. There were probably going to be bruises on his waist and hip from Spock holding him down. Jim wanted to collect all the traces Spock had left on his body and keep them forever, keep them safe and hidden so that he would always know what it felt like to be wanted by someone like Spock.

But it wasn’t Spock who had wanted him in the alley. It was two small pills, slipped into Spock’s drink and dissolved in a couple of seconds. It was the drug that had kissed him, touched him, felt him, wanted him, not Spock.

What would it have been like, Jim wondered, if it _had_ been Spock? Would it have been different?

Jim had wondered what Spock was like in bed before, but he’d never allowed the idle thoughts to develop into actual oh god that’s hot bite your tongue jerk off in the shower kind of fantasies. It had felt sacriligeous to think of him that way. Not to mention the fact that Spock was a touch telepath and he was bound to find out if Jim was walking around picturing his First Officer splayed out on the nearest flat surface or bent over his station on the bridge or even once or twice riding Jim in the captain’s chair itself…

Okay, so maybe a few stray idle thoughts had blossomed into full fledged inappropriate hard ons, but the one thing Academy didn’t prepare you for was the mind-numbing boredom of Space and Jim had a healthy imagination. Cut him some slack, he was only human (unlike Spock).

But now Jim _knew_. He knew that Spock tasted like chocolate and Bailey’s and underneath those flavors he tasted like how pennies smell. Which shouldn’t make sense but it did and it shouldn’t be such a turn on but it was.

Maybe Jim would be lucky for once. Maybe Spock wouldn’t remember what had happened or what Jim had said. Jim would have to tell him the gist of what occurred and he couldn’t lie because that really would be a betrayal of Spock’s trust but maybe he could gloss over some parts…

Bones opened the door and stuck his head inside.

“Spock’s starting to come around.” He said gently.

Jim took a deep breath and got to his feet. He could do this. He was James Tiberius Kirk, bona fide hero and captain of the USS Enterprise and he was _not_ terrified that his First Officer wouldn’t like him anymore. He followed Bones to the private room where Spock lay. As they approached the door his knees went weak and his feet refused to follow his brain’s orders to keep moving.

“You know, actually, maybe I should wait here.” He started to babble. “He’ll probably want to be alone. To recover his Vulcan cool or something. I’d best just stay-”

“Shut up.” Bones swatted him on the arm.

Jim took another deep breath and forced himself to walk through the door.

Spock was still asleep, at least that was something to be thankful for. Jim fidgeted at the foot of the bed while Bones examined the equipment.

“How long do you think-” He started to ask but cut off when Spock shifted. Jim fought the urge to flee as his friend opened his eyes and blinked at the ceiling.

“How are you feeling?” McCoy asked. Spock slowly raised himself into a seated position. His eyes darted around the room but at no point did he look at Jim.

“…I am myself again.” Spock said eventually, his voice slow and husky. He clasped his hands together on top of the blanket and stared at them.

“Glad to hear it.” Bones said gruffly. “Any headache? Nausea? Vertigo?”

“Negative.” Spock didn’t look at them. Jim got the feeling Spock couldn’t bare to see his face and his already guilty conscience twinged.

“Good.” Bones glanced at Jim. “I’ll just leave you boys to…yeah…” He left the room, completely ignoring Jim’s desperate eyes and silent pleas to remain. He closed the door behind him and Jim glared at the knob and vowed that the next time he saw Christine Chapel he was going to tell her all about the time Bones had taken his daughter trick-or-treating in a matching princess costume. Jim had pictures.

_Just suck it up and get this over with._ He ordered himself. “Spock, I-”

“Captain.” Spock interrupted, still not looking at him. “I submit myself for disciplinary action.”

Jim’s mouth fell open. He could no longer remember what he’d been expecting but it wasn’t that. “You what now?”

“My actions this evening were unprofessional and inappropriate. I understand if you wish to press charges and I will file my resignation from Starfleet as soon as-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Jim leaned on the bed for support. “Hold your horses.”

Spock glanced up, his brow creased in confusion. “My horses?”

“I mean…” Jim’s head was spinning and he sat down on the bed next to Spock. “I’ve got no idea what you think happened tonight but you did nothing to be ashamed of. If anything it’s me who should be resigning.”

“As you are the injured party that would be most illogical.” Spock frowned.

“ _I’m_ the injured party?”  Jim couldn’t believe his ears. “Have you lost your Vulcan mind? I’m not the one who was drugged, kidnapped, almost raped-”

“You are the individual I molested.” Spock snapped, his eyes flashing.

“I-you- _what_ …” Jim spluttered. “Oh my god, you have gone crazy. That damn drup messed with your head and now you’re crazy. I’m going to kill Bones, he said you’d be fine.”

Spock blinked. “Captain?”

“For fuck’s sake, Spock, call me Jim.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Okay, first of all you did not molest anyone.” Judging from the look on Spock’s face he was going to argue so Jim quickly continued before he could interrupt again. “And no, I won’t be pressing any charges. Now would you mind explaining what exactly you _think_ happened because I have to admit, Spock, I’m feeling kind of lost.”

To Jim’s utter disbelief Spock flinched and looked away, his face flushing a dark green. “Cap- _Jim_ , please do not…” He trailed off before visibly gathering his courage. “I forced my affections upon you despite your entreaties to desist.” He swallowed and Jim couldn’t help but stare in wonder as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “It was a gross transgression and I cannot expect you to forgive me.”

Hope was blooming in Jim’s chest for the first time, fluttering and pulsing and making even the fluorescent white of sickbay seem beautiful. Spock had never looked so precious. “ _Your_ affections?” Jim whispered.

“You are already aware of my regard, Jim.” Spock still wouldn’t look at him and so he didn’t see the huge goofy grin spreading across his human’s face. “To deny what has already been established would be illogical.”

“Spock, I want to be very clear about this.” Jim leaned closer, forcing Spock to meet his eyes. “Are you saying that you acted like you did down on Risa because you _wanted_ to?”

Spock glared at him. “Obviously, Captain.”

“I am really, really happy to hear that, Spock.” Jim beamed. “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

Spock’s jaw dropped and Jim swooped down and stuck his tongue inside Spock’s mouth. He cradled Spock’s face in his hands and kissed, sucked, nipped and teased with as much love and tenderness as he could muster. At first Spock was rigid with shock and Jim happily had his way with Spock’s lips but it didn’t take long for the Vulcan’s brain to come back online.

“Jim.” Spock tried to pull back but Jim just pulled him closer. “Jim-what-” His words were muffled by Jim’s ministrations.

Jim sighed and allowed enough distance to come between them to allow for speech. “What?”

“I do not understand your motivations at this time.” Spock said haltingly. “Please explain.”

“I am.” Jim nuzzled the side of Spock’s face, then shoved him back onto the bed and straddled him.

“This is _not_ an explanation.” Spock’s eyes were wide and his voice sounded slightly alarmed, which meant he was already panicking on the inside.

“Sure it is.” Jim said happily and returned to the vital business of kissing Spock into oblivion. He pulled the blanket off the biobed and let it fall to the floor.

Possibly Spock was still suffering from the highly suggestible effects of the drug, or possibly he really did want this as much as Jim, either way Spock stopped arguing and just _melted_.

_Damn_ he felt good. Lust was overflowing Jim’s entire body, sweet heat in his veins and single-minded purpose in his brain. His tongue once again slipped past Spock’s lips and explored his mouth and this time Spock returned the favor. Jim groaned and settled his weight more firmly on top of his Vulcan. Spock’s mouth was dry and his tongue was slightly longer than the average human’s. It laved against the back of Jim’s mouth, sending spasms of unfamiliar pleasure shooting through his nerves. He whimpered and Spock swallowed the sound hungrily, turning it into his own as Jim bit down on his lip and sucked hard.

It was amazing but it wasn’t nearly enough, not even close. Jim massaged Spock’s abs and pressed chaste kisses at the corner of his mouth, on his cheek, his temple, the point of his ear.

“If you don’t mind,” he whispered, his voice faltering slightly. “I’d like to _explain_ my _regard_.”

Spock hesitated, perhaps catching some hints at what Jim intended through the brush of Jim’s swollen lips on his ear, and Jim forced himself to wait. He’d spent most of the night hating himself for taking advantage, he wasn’t going to mess this up now by not making damn sure that Spock was 100% on board.

Though he did allow his hand to drift lower between their bodies and trace careful circles alone the angles of Spock’s pelvic bone. Teasing, ticklish circles that came so _very_ close but did not in fact arrive at the root of the issue. It wasn’t cheating. It was explaining.

“Please, Jim…” Spock whimpered.

“Please Jim what?” Jim pressed him, kissing him between the eyes and again on the tip of his nose. “Yes or no, Spock?”

“…Affirmative.”

That was more than good enough for Jim. He untied the strings that held Spock’s hospital gown in place and removed the offending object slowly, letting it fall to the floor next to the blanket. He took his time as he worked his way down, worshipping every inch of Spock’s skin with kisses and bites, leaving green blushes and teethmarks in his wake. Spock sat up and watched Jim helplessly. Then he reached out and tugged at Jim’s black shirt. Jim raised his eyes from the kiss he’d been leaving on Spock’s navel and grinned.

“Want something?” He asked innocently.

“Remove your clothing.” Spock commanded, his voice deliciously hoarse.

“Hmmm…” Jim pretended to think about it, dragging his teeth across Spock’s pebbled nipple.

Spock growled impatiently and slipped his fingers underneath Jim’s collar.

“Wait-” Jim started to say but it was too late and Spock had already ripped the cotton t-shirt in two, pulling the shreds away. Jim glared, even as his heart pounded and pumped what little blood was left in his brain down south. “Spock, you bad boy.”

Which, oh god, sounded unbelievably _stupid_ when he said it out loud but the way Spock raised an eyebrow and pinched Jim’s pec was, _fuck_ him, unthinkably appealing.

“It was necessary.” Spock informed him, one hand tangling in Jim’s hair while the other massaged the back of his shoulder. “I required increased access.”

“D-did you now?” Jim stuttered, not sure why this felt so good and having a little trouble remembering what he was supposed to be doing.

“Affirmative.”

Oh, now he remembered. Jim smirked and slid further down Spock’s body.

Normally Jim preferred to fool around in the dark. It added to the challenge, the discovery, not to mention in the dark you didn’t have to worry about inappropriate giggle fits brought on by the ridiculous faces people tended to make when getting fucked, which was not an explanation that went over well with said partners. But at this particular moment Jim couldn’t be more grateful for the bright sickbay LED lighting because Spock was fucking _gorgeous_. He took a break from tasting skin to admire the view.

Long and hard, green and glistening. His Vulcan’s cock was narrower than Jim’s and uncircumcised, droplets of translucent precum collecting around the foreskin. The thick thatch of black hair was smooth and it looked soft, not curled and coarse like a human’s. Jim experimentally rubbed his nose in it and discovered to his delight that it was warm and pillowy, like a kitten’s belly. Which was adorable and weird and made Jim wonder if he could get Spock to pur.

Spock gasped at the contact, his hips pressing upwards of their own volition.

Jim pressed his lips to the root of Spock’s shaft, the tip of his tongue darting out to sample Spock’s taste. Coppery and sweet. Vulcans didn’t sweat so there was no trace of salt, just skin and sex.

Jim started off soft and slow, familiarizing himself with the great length of Spock’s member. He took his time, noticing all the little details and aspects he never would have seen in the dark, tracing the veins with his tongue as he made his way to the tip. Spock watched him fixedly, both hands trembling in Jim’s hair, not forcing anything, just resting gently as if he was afraid that if he tightened his hold Jim would vanish. That changed when Jim stuck his tongue under Spock’s foreskin and slowly pulled it back, watching Spock’s face closely for any sign of discomfort. He needn’t have worried. Spock’s head fell back, mouth wide and eyes blown. His hands jerked, fingers scrabbling wildly at Jim’s hair as he fought back the impulse to take control. Jim’s own cock throbbed at the sight. He’d never been so hard in his life.

“Spock.” Jim breathed, the name ghosting over the gleaming swollen head. “Look at me.”

Spock managed to lift his head and meet Jim’s eyes. Jim held the gaze as he parted his lips and took Spock down, all the way down as far as he could go without choking himself. Spock was too long to deep throat properly but Jim could damn well try and he wrapped his hand around the base that wouldn’t fit and he gripped it tight as he pulled off with an obscene pop.

It was too much for Spock. One hand left Jim’s hair and pressed against the side of his face.

“Jim,” Spock gasped. “Please.”

“Whatever you want.” Jim told him before sliding the head back into his mouth and rubbing the slit with his tongue.

The next second his mind exploded. Spock slipped into him and he could feel _everything_. All of it. All of what Spock was feeling, all of what he was feeling. The dizzying lust, the amazement that this was really happening, the swirling overpowering storm of _love_. He could tell that Spock knew what Jim was feeling too, that Spock could tell how much Jim was getting off on taking Spock apart like this, piece by typically controlled piece, how scared he’d been earlier that Spock would hate him forever and how relieved and grateful he was now.

Then Jim sucked down hard on Spock’s cock and if it weren’t for his painfully tight grip on the base they both would have cum right then and there. Jim screamed, his jaw slack around the shaft and his eyes rolling back in his skull. Spock’s hips jerked wildly and he bit down on his bottom lip so hard a trickle of green blood oozed down his chin.

Jim could _feel_ it and it felt like he was going down on both of them simultaneously, as if when he swept his tongue over Spock’s dick and lapped up the precum he was delivering the same attention to himself as well. Could Spock also feel the pressure and weight of a cock in his mouth, against his cheek, down his throat? Could he also feel the thrill of having someone bigger and stronger helpless and writhing with pleasure? Could he also feel furnace hot fingers on his scalp and face?

As if in answer Spock moved the hand that was still on Jim’s head through his hair and Jim felt as if…

Oh dear god, he didn’t even possess the vocabulary to explain it. Seemed like the rumors were true, Vulcans really did have erogenous zones on their hands. No, that wasn’t it exactly because Jim had sensitive ears and they’d never felt like this. It reminded him of the few times he’d bottomed for someone who really knew what they were doing or that one memorable night with Gaila when she’d told him she could do things with her tongue he’d never even dreamed of and he’d dared her to prove it. It was a kind of pure unadulterated pleasure that had nothing to do with reproduction, the kind of sensation that could make you cry to your deity of choice in gratitude that somewhere along the line evolution had decided sex would work a lot better if it felt incomprehensively delicious on a mind-blowing cosmic level. Or at least, that’s what you would do if you had enough brain power to be aware of anything other than the pleasure.

And, _oh my god_ , hands you could fuck with weren’t the only anatomical difference between Spock and Jim. Lust-fueled curiosity drove Jim to edge his tongue along the sensitive fold of Spock’s foreskin and damn if that didn’t hurt so good.

They were feeding off each other’s passion now and each movement, each whimper, each suck and twitch and tug and nip was bringing them higher and higher, spiraling towards elevations of _please_ and _more_ and _harder_ and _faster_ that Jim had never reached before. The moment was infinite, like being caught between two mirrors. Jim could feel what Spock felt, could feel Spock feeling what he felt, they echoed one another until the entire multiverse consisted only of _this_ and _now_ and _love you so fucking much_.

Of course they came together, seed spilling down Jim’s throat and into his pants. And as far as they had gone in the throes of passion that was how far they fell, collapsing boneless and wordless, Jim’s face on Spock’s navel, Spock’s hands resting on Jim’s head. They gasped for breath as their bodies twitched and spasmed together in the aftermath of their combined orgasm. Spock waited until the shared experience became too much for their wildly firing nervous systems before breaking the meld and slipping gently from Jim’s mind.

It was going to be a _long_ time before Jim had the ability to move but luckily Vulcans are stronger than humans and Spock had just enough energy left to pull Jim up so that he could tuck his human’s head under his chin and cradle him close.

Jim lost track of how long they lay like that, with Spock treating him like he was something precious while Jim tried and failed to comprehend all that had miraculously happened.

Finally he was able to raise his head and plant a kiss on Spock’s cheek.

“I love you.” He told him. “And in about 20 minutes you and me are going to have sex for real. Agreed?”

Spock nodded. “Agreed.” He said and pulled Jim closer for another kiss.

Meanwhile, the entire night shift was assembled on the opposite side of sickbay in a tight huddle. McCoy held out a fistful of tongue depressors.

“Okay. Whoever picks the short one has to go and tell them that the biosigns monitor is still on.”

 


End file.
